


heteroclite

by meghanisadweeb



Series: Angsty Jamilton With SAT Word Titles [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Child Abuse, Gender Dysphoria, Homophobia, I'm sure that they were fine for slave owning pieces of shit., M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, OOC Peter and Jane Jefferson, Other, Somewhat OOC Thomas Jefferson, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-07 02:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meghanisadweeb/pseuds/meghanisadweeb
Summary: het·er·o·clite[ˈhedərəˌklīt]ADJECTIVEabnormal or irregular.Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton are quite the heteroclites.*The Rape/Non-Con Warning is for things that are only mentioned. No character is described being raped.*





	1. Chapter 1

    “Papa was talking to me about sex the other day. Babies and shit. He says that I’m gonna have to get married pretty soon after I graduate ‘cause he’s getting old as fuck and he wants grandkids.” Thomas says quietly, looking down. He takes a drag out of his cigarette, trying to look nonchalant. He doesn’t want his boyfriend to know how much it all freaks him out. 

 

    “Peter Jefferson said that he was getting old as fuck?” Alex cocks an eyebrow, barely concealing a grin. “The man is such a pearl-clutcher that if he hangs on much harder he’s gonna snap ‘em.” 

 

    “Baby, this is serious. I can’t go against him. You know that. If he wants me to marry some random hedge fund manager’s boring daughter, that’s what I’m going to have to do.” He learned a long time ago that when he disobeyed his father, things could get ugly faster than he can blink. God, he’s been turned over Peter’s knee more as a rebellious teen than he ever had been as a little kid. 

 

    “Why the fuck not? You’re gonna be eighteen in, like, three months. That’s when you cash in on some of that homophobic blood money, right? So, you bide your time and skip town after graduation with all that embezzled cash.” The other boy looks much less amused now, arms crossed over his chest in the pre-stages of an infamous Alexander Hamilton temper tantrum. 

 

    “Homophobic blood money? Is that seriously what you think of me? He’s my  _ father _ , Alexander.” He only ever uses his boyfriend’s full name when he’s pissed off, and by God is he pissed off right now.

 

    “It’s true! God, what would he even  _ say _ if he found out that his precious angel sticks it in his boyfriend’s ass on a regular basis? What would he say about ‘ _ Daddy _ ’? This is too fucking good. Do you think that snail mail would work for something like that, or would an email from an anonymous account work better?” Alex is cracking up, and if it were anyone else, Thomas would wipe that smug look off his face.

 

    “You’re actually joking about outing me to my dad. What the fuck?! Why would you even  _ think _ about doing something like that, let alone contemplate how you’d fucking do it? He’d  _ disown _ me! I can’t fucking- If I ever came out to Papa, he’d write me out of his will and shun me. I wouldn’t even be invited to his funeral. He absolutely can’t find out about any of this. About you, or me being gay in general-” He throws his cigarette on the ground and stamps it out like a kid stomping his foot after being put in time out. 

 

    “Well, if it wasn’t for your fucking Christian guilt, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess! So what if he disowns you? You lose your inheritance? Big fucking deal! How much do you have in that trust of yours, anyway?! I doubt that you need three billion or however much that piece of shit has in offshore accounts on top of whatever wad you already have!” Alex balls up his fists and steps into Thomas’s space. 

 

    “This is one of those family things! You know, one of those family things that you’ll never understand because even your own  _ father _ didn’t want you! My dad actually loves me! He just… has problems expressing that, sometimes.” It’s a low blow, Thomas is self-aware enough to realize that much.

 

    “My dad didn’t beat me! I could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted! He didn’t fucking abuse me and my mom emotionally and physically! You want to talk about love? Treating you like you’re a seven year old isn’t love! You have a schedule on your fridge in baby blue with fucking smiley face stickers! Isn’t that a little odd to you?!” Alex’s lower lip wobbles and Thomas feels his heart drop in his chest.

 

    “He just wants me to be better, okay?! We’ve talked about this and you’re not going to change my mind! He just has funny ways of showing me how much he loves me! If he didn’t love me then he wouldn’t take the time to correct me! He’d just ignore me or kick me out! He wouldn’t go through the trouble of disciplining me, and-” He knows in his heart of hearts that Papa loves him. He has to. He’s all that he has left.

 

    “Stop making excuses for him! He’s fucking infantilized you and has been turning you into his little  _ dog _ since you were born! He still  _ spanks  _ you, for Christ’s sake! Spanking isn’t good at any age, but on a fucking seventeen year old?!” He has those big, concerned,  _ beautiful _ brown eyes fixed on him, and he suddenly feels really guilty even though he has no real reason to be.

 

    “I can’t do this right now, okay? I know that you hate Papa, but he’s my dad. I can’t just… I have to be with him. If he doesn’t have me then he’s all alone, and I couldn’t do that to him. After Mama… he’s just so  _ sad _ . All the time. He hardly even yells at me anymore. It’s not like… Please. Just drop it?” Thomas murmurs, blinking away tears. He has church in the morning, anyway, and the last time he missed a Sunday service he had a fever of 102. 

 

    “I love you. I just wish that you could see that he’s hurting you. I can’t stand to see you hurting like this all the time. It makes me feel so powerless. My boyfriend’s hurting, and I can’t fix it.” Alex wraps his arms around him in a hug, and Thomas’s hands quickly find their place on the small of his back.

 

    “You’re still wearing your binder. Why are you still wearing your binder? You wore it all day at school and it needs to come off, okay? C’mon. Shirt off.” He scolds lightly, tugging on the hem of Alexander’s t-shirt. The shorter boy grumbles a little but eventually relents, raising his arms above his head. Thomas pulls it off of him in a well-practiced motion, and the binder is the next thing to go. 

 

    “There we go. Handsome boy. Deep breaths for me. I wish that I could find you something to help you alleviate your dysphoria without the breathing issues. I hate that you have to hurt to look more like who you are.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to Alex’s forehead. The moment is so tender, it’s almost like they’d never fought at all. 

 

    “I know.” Lexi says shortly, tugging his shirt back on. He does the breathing exercises with little complaint, though. As a reward for not pitching a fit, he gets a long, slow kiss, full of passion.

 

    They can do this. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for direct, explicit child abuse. And victim-blaming, both internal and external. And also probably Stockholm Syndrome?

 

    Thomas went home shortly after that, sneaking back into his room cautiously. Papa would kill him if he caught him. He’d demand to know what he’d been doing, demand to read all of his texts- It’s making his heart pound just thinking about it.

 

    All that he can think about while he’s tossing and turning in his bed is how much easier it would be to sleep if he had his Alexander in his arms. His smart, handsome Alexander, who inexplicably likes Taco Bell and loves the color green. He’s got it bad. But he’ll never be able to bring Alex home to meet his father. He’ll never be able to have his father walk him down the aisle.

 

    ---

     On Monday, Thomas wakes up with a terrible headache. Church had been a brand-new kind of hell that he hadn't been prepared for on any level. Garbage, all of it. But he wasn't going to say anything, especially not to Papa.

 

     _Wake up. Take a shower. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Brush your teeth._

 

    He knows his his morning routine like he knows the back of his own hand. Actually, he probably knows his routine even better. He’s only been following it since he was eight. But today… today is different. Thomas has never allowed himself much teenage rebellion; He knows firsthand how that can end.

 

    But he finds himself pouring corn flakes into a bowl while he’s still in his sweatpants and a well-worn t-shirt. Even worse, he sits down at the breakfast island and goes to town on them. Right in front of Papa.

 

    “What are you doing, Tommy? Are you sick? Should I call the school and keep you home?” Peter raises an eyebrow, but he’s only asking to be polite. He knows damn well what game his son is playing, and he won’t stand for disobedience. Today or any other day, for that matter.

 

    “Just sorta thought that breakfast would help wake me up. I almost fell asleep in the shower yesterday.” Thomas murmurs with an airy laugh, plunging his spoon into the milk. He’s going to be in so much trouble, but he can’t help but think that it’s all going to be worth it.

 

    “Son, we have the schedule for a reason. If you start putting things like your shower off, what’ll be next? We both know that you need order to function.” The older man shifts, lips twisting into a little bit of a sneer. Thomas gulps and nods.

 

    “Of course, Papa, I just thought that maybe-”

 

    “I won’t stand for you being disobedient. You know what I’m going to have to do now, don’t you? Go to my study and wait over the desk. I’ll be in to discipline you in just a moment. I have to throw this away.” Peter takes the bowl away from him and walks over to the sink. He pointedly pours what’s left into the garbage disposal. Thomas shuffles away, silently kicking himself. He’s been doing so _well_ , too.

 

    Papa comes in a moment later, pulling the paddle out of his desk drawer. “I really, really wish that you were more obedient. I hate hurting you like this, but it’s the only way that you ever learn. What did you do that’s causing you to be punished?” He sort of pushes Thomas onto his stomach over his desk, keeping his hand between his shoulder blades.

 

    “I went off my schedule. Sir. I just-”

 

    “I’m not going to hear any excuses from you. I have rules for a reason. Following them is important. I know what’s best for you, Tommy. I just wish that you could see that.” Peter sighs and tugs down his son’s sweatpants. Thomas squirms a little, but he doesn't have a whole lot of fight in him. Arguing only makes things worse. He knows that it’s coming, but all the preparation in the world couldn’t stop the sob that leaves him when that fucking paddle - the bane of his goddamn existence - comes down on him.

 

    “I’m sorry, sir.” He mumbles, resting his forehead on the desk. The ridiculously expensive desk, might he add. Solid fucking mahogany with gold detailing. The pain is bad, sure, but what’s worse is knowing that he’s disappointed his father. The man that raised him, that cares enough to do all of this just so that he can be better. And he’s so ungrateful that he can’t even do his shit in the right order. He’s going to be sick. He’s going to be sick.

 

     _Papa’s mad at you, you ungrateful piece of shit. You break his rules constantly. As soon as you turn eighteen, you’re out on your ass. Alex won’t put up with you for much longer after that. He’ll realize how much of a nuisance you are. He doesn’t really love you, you’re just a warm body. Just someone to fuck and argue with and that’s it. He doesn’t-_

 

    He can only bear to sit through a few more before he collapses into a fit of sobs. “I’m so sorry, Papa! I’ll listen! I can be good. I’ll follow the rules and I’ll come home on time and you’ll never hear a word of backtalk from me, please just don’t throw me out. Please, I’ll do whatever you want.” He’s in absolute hysterics, tears all but pouring down his cheeks. He’s so fucking pathetic. He can’t even keep himself together through a punishment that he caused.

 

    When he looks up, Peter’s smiling, but his grin is nothing short of malicious. He rubs Thomas’s shoulder, his display of affection for the day, and sighs happily.

 

    “I can tell that you really are sorry, son. And you’ll have a place to live with me for as long as I’m alive. Go get your shower taken care of and you’re forgiven.” He would come to understand later what the man meant when he said that he would always have a place to live with him, but for now he just hiccuped and scurried away.

 

    He can’t help but think about how lucky he is all through his shower. Lucky that he has a dad that loves him so much, lucky that he has a warm bed and everything he could ever want. Lucky that he has his boyfriend, but that can’t last long. Alexander will leave him eventually, and he’ll be on his own with Papa again. But Papa will always be there for him. That solid rock that he can always count on for guidance at the end of the day.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how long this took. And posting at eleven at night? Great idea.
> 
> But you should totally comment. And leave kudos. But mostly comment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gives Thomas an ultimatum and Thomas is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is hella short.
> 
> Also, warnings for: Mentions of child abuse.

    “What did he do to you?” Alex demands, glaring up at Thomas and jabbing him in the chest. He looks down, biting his lip. He looks so _sad_. Papa doesn’t look at him like that. He gets so angry, yells at him, throws things. It’s so much easier to have someone be pissed off at him.

 

    “Nothing that I didn’t deserve. I’m sorry that I make you worry so much. And it’s all my fault and I’m so, so sorry.” He’s extremely emotionally fragile right now. He feels like he’s standing on a balance beam with high heels on his feet. “Please, please. I can’t do this right now. I can’t. Please.” He’s not going to cry. He can’t let himself cry in front of his boyfriend. Not right now, not ever.

 

    “Thomas, oh, baby… Come on. We’re ditching.” Alexander grabs him by the hand and starts tugging him towards the gate. He lets himself be pulled away by the shorter boy, grounded by his rough hands. His hands that are so good at holding him after a long day. That wipe away tears and rub his shoulders and write him poems and stories and cheesy-ass love letters.

 

    “Now, tell me what he did to you. You look so broken.” Alex bites his lip when they're finally off campus, stopping Thomas in his tracks. He's so stupid. Stupid little boy that needs someone to tell him the difference between right and wrong because he doesn't have the brainpower to do it himself. Who can't even be trusted to tie his own tie in the morning and relies on Papa's every decision.

 

    “I, um. I didn't follow my morning routine. He spanked me for it and I only got a couple of spoonfuls of cereal for breakfast. It's not that big a deal.” He shrugs, looking away. He knows the exact expression Alex has. He's seen in a million times on days like this.

 

    “Why don't you just leave him, goddammit?! It'd be so much easier. Honestly, what good do you think can possibly come out of this?!” Alex pulls him down by his tie, forcing him to meet his eyes.

 

    “I can't do that. You know I can't do that. He's my father, and he just wants what's best for me. It's not like he _wants_ to hurt me. He has to! It's the only way that I learn.” He whimpers softly, doing his damnedest to get away. Alexander's grip on him is extremely strong.

 

    “Would you hit me if you thought that it would make me better?” His voice is angry but surprisingly quiet. He's not mad, which is a good thing. Thomas couldn't handle two people being mad at him in the same day.

 

    “Of course not! That’s… It's abuse. You don’t think that I’d do something like that, do you?” He's appalled that Alex would even entertain the idea of him _hitting_ his boyfriend. That's so not on. He couldn’t ever hurt his Lexi like that, who wouldn’t have a damn chance of fighting back, who couldn’t do anything to stop him. He couldn’t take advantage of him like that. Use him as though he's a punching bag.

 

    “Then why is it okay for him to do it to you, T?”

 

    It’s fucking nickname that kills him every single time. Lexi uses it maybe once every few weeks, and it’s always accompanied by those big, doe-ish eyes staring up at him and with a little bit of a pout.

 

    “It’s just… It just is, okay? He’s my dad. I have to listen to what he says. You listen to Washington, right? It’s the same thing. Washington is just… a different kind of parent, right? He’s a little more lenient with you. Papa just wants me to be perfect. He makes me more perfect by, y’know, hurting me sometimes. And the schedules, but it’s not… He doesn’t hit me in the face. And the schedules are just-” Thomas looks away, anywhere but at Alexander.

 

    “Don’t even try to excuse the schedules. Babe, you can’t use the bathroom when you want. You have to beg that- that _monster_ for the fucking key. And when he doesn’t give it to you? You have to fucking go in your pants. That’s not fucking okay. You shouldn’t have to go through that.” The shorter boy purses his lips like he’s in a moment of deep thought. “You have to tell someone about what he does to you or I will.”

 

    Thomas freezes completely, not daring to even breathe too loudly. No. If Alex told then they’d take Papa away from him and he can’t them do that because he’s all that he’s got left. He wouldn’t have anything without Papa because Papa’s his entire world and if he didn’t have Papa then he’d have no one to keep him on his schedules or punish him for acting out.

 

    “Please. I’ll do whatever you want, just… not that. Please, don’t make me do that. He’s all that I’ve got. He’s the only thing that I have. Please.” When he finally dares to speak his eyes go as wide as saucers and he looks down at his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was a shitty ending. You should totally tell me about that in the comments ;)
> 
> I have a 2000% chance of answering you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Alex fight some more, and Thomas starts to understand something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Implied transphobia, Implied homophobia, both internal and external, and Mentions of child abuse.

    They end up going to Washington’s house, like always. Any time they’re together, they come here. Thomas knows damn well that Peter’s paid off the maids and they’d snitch if they saw the two of them together. It’s a familiar place. He’s been here late at night and through days where he and his boyfriend skip school enough to be comfortable there. He knows how to get out in case Washington comes home.

 

    “You hungry?” Usually, Alex wouldn’t bother offering him food, knowing that it’s a waste of breath, but apparently today he’s in a mood to get Thomas to break every single one of his rules. He shakes his head, sitting down on the couch. According to his reflection in the darkened television screen, he looks like someone just killed his best friend. 

 

    He’s not really allowed to look in mirrors. Sure, he catches a glimpse of himself here and there, but it’s something that’s always been discouraged. Papa said that he didn’t want him to be too vain, and Mama… He swallows thickly at the memory of her, pushing those thoughts from his mind. 

 

    Alex comes over to sit next to him, bowl of Froot Loops in hand. Way too much milk and a dusting of extra sugar on the top of them. “You have a date for prom yet?” He asks through a mouth full of cereal, flipping through the channels and settling on some random Law & Order reruns.

 

    “I thought that we were going together?” Thomas feels his breath quicken. Is this how Alexander is going to break up with him? He knew that it would happen eventually, but certainly not this soon. He’s not ready for this yet. 

 

    “Well, yeah, but you’re gonna have to have a fake date. You can’t exactly introduce me and your dad. Unless…” He lets his voice trail off, and Thomas groans. They’ve talked about this a hundred times. He couldn’t do something for his own benefit that would make his Alexander that dysphoric. 

 

    “No. Absolutely not. You know how I feel about the idea of you in a dress and pretending to be a girl. I’m taking my boyfriend to the prom whether he likes it or not and my boyfriend will be wearing a tuxedo with a tie that matches mine.” The taller boy crosses his arms, eyes slightly narrowed. He’d known Alexander since he was placed with the Washingtons - five years ago - and he’d only been known as a girl named Sarah for a few weeks before realizing that he was, in fact, a boy.

 

    “But that’d just make it so much easier! Then you could introduce me to your dad, and we’d be able to  _ really _ go together!” Alex protests, setting aside his food. Shit. The only thing that Alex likes more than food is arguing. Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck. 

 

     “You know how depressed you get after you get dysphoric! What the fuck do you think that wearing a dress and pretending to be a girl is gonna go for you?!” Thomas stands, practically towering over the Alexander. Alexander, whose eyes are filled with none of the sadness they were before. No, they’re now blazing with a burning, bright, violent fire. “I can’t have you all sad and wanting to kill yourself just because you- Because you want to pretend to be something that you’re not for my sake!”

 

    “Pretending to be something that I’m not? I would know a lot about that, wouldn’t I?” Alex’s eyes narrow to nothing more than slits of pupil. “You don’t think that I remember how you _ treated _ me?! What you called me?!” He jabs Thomas in the chest, lips forming an ugly sneer. 

 

    “I said that I was sorry about that. I didn’t know any better, and I- You know what I used to think! You know  _ why _ I used to think what I used to think!” God, he can see it. He feels a little bit sick with the thought of how he used to be. Who a part of him still is, deep inside his heart.

 

    “Yeah, because the piece of shit that you call your father brainwashed you into it! Because he made you think that you were wrong, that I was wrong, and that this-” Alex drags him forward and into a bruising kiss. He pulls away after a moment, panting a little. “Is wrong. So, you tell me, Thomas. Is this wrong?”

 

    “No.” He says quietly, looking down at his feet. He’s so stupid. God, he shouldn’t have ever come here. He should have stayed at school, he never should have gotten mixed up in the beautiful, colorful, blindingly bright flurry of color and passion that he calls his boyfriend in the first place. But here he is, for better or for worse. “No, it’s not wrong. I shouldn’t have ever thought that it was wrong, but you know how he is about stuff like that.” When he looks back up, there’s Alex. 

 

    “You know what would  _ really _ make me feel better right now?” Alex cracks a grin, teeth blindingly bright and perfect. It’s so beautiful that Thomas can’t help but smile back.

 

    “Magical Thomas Jefferson Healing Dick (Patent Pending)?” He laughs, a low, rumbly sound that comes somewhere from deep in his chest. It’s been an ongoing joke for most of their relationship that Thomas’s dick has magic healing powers. It’s not unknown for Alexander to refer to it as his ‘staff’ when he wants to get his boyfriend all flustered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and Alex will suck Thomas's dick. Maybe. A few chapters from now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander is stubborn, much to his own detriment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Implied/Referenced Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Homo/Transphobia, and Implied/Referenced Child Abuse. And another shitty ending.

    Alex is most definitely going to be the death of him. Because, one, he showed up to school that day looking distinctly feminine. Wearing a  _ skirt _ for God’s sakes. He looks extremely uncomfortable when Thomas sits down next to him in first period.

 

    “Hey, baby,” Alexander says with a small smile, resting his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. The taller boy frowns, taking note of the different way Alex styled his hair. A single French braid. He’s been known to wear it in a bun or a ponytail, but this is completely and totally unprecedented. He didn't even know that Alex  _ could _ do a French braid.

 

    “What the fuck are you doing?” Thomas narrows his eyes a little. “Where’s your binder? Shit, I thought that you said that the Washingtons knew and were okay with you being trans? Double shit. Fucking shit fuck.” He’s practically thinking himself into a panic attack. He knows George and Martha, and they wouldn’t make Alex present femininely, but he can never be too sure. He can never be too sure with Alex-

 

    “Thomas, relax. It’s not like that, okay? I just thought that  _ maybe _ you could take me home with you tonight? Introduce me to your dad?” Alexander bites his lip and Thomas’s stomach drops. He can’t do that. He won’t do that. “‘Cause if he thinks you have a girlfriend he’ll get off your ass a little, right?” 

 

    The taller boy’s eyes fall on Alex’s chest. A little cross necklace. And his boyfriend suddenly smells like lavender and he can’t do this. “I can’t pretend that you’re my girlfriend. I- I can’t.”

 

    “You can, though. It’ll be  _ fine _ , baby boy. Just call Peter and tell him that you want to bring me over and, shit, I’ll even change into a dress if that’s what you think would be best. This is kind of important to me. I want to know my boyfriend’s dad, even if he is an abusive, manipulative, controlling piece of-” Alex cuts himself short with an uneasy laugh. “I just don’t want you to be ashamed of me. Even if he’s not seeing the  _ real _ me, I want him to meet what he’d think that I was anyway. He’d just think that I was some confused girl that needed to get herself straightened out. You honestly tell me that if he knew that you were dating a trans dude, he wouldn’t get on your ass about how my chromosomes should define every single fucking aspect of my life.”

 

    “Mr. Hamilton, is there something that you and Mr. Jefferson would like to share with the class?” Franklin cuts in just in time, looking over his glasses like he can read their minds. Thomas sighs shakily, shifting in his seat.

 

    “No, sir.” Alex mumbles, cheeks tinged pink.

 

    “Good. Now, if you’ll all meet me on page one hundred and thirty-eight of your textbooks. The American Revolution…” Thomas honestly can’t pay attention to the lesson. History is one of his best subjects, seconded only by debate, but… There’s this crushing weight on his chest that he can’t get off no matter how hard he tries. Alexander looks so fucking uncomfortable in that skirt. 

 

    Lunch is nothing short of a blessing. He and Alex have very different friend groups and, as a result, sit on almost completely opposite sides of the cafeteria. He picks at his salad, barely paying attention to Martha and James’s pointless chattering.

 

    His next blessing is his free period. That means that he can plead his case to Papa. He’d hate for Alex to go through all this trouble for him and have nothing come out of it. He picks his father’s contact and chews on his nails while he waits for him to pick up.

 

    “Yes?” Peter sounds very unbothered by the call, especially considering he’s at work. “I’m sure that you have better things to be doing with this time, Tommy, so please make this quick.”

 

    “Do you think that my…” Thomas sighs before just spitting it out. “Do you think that my girlfriend could come over tonight for dinner? She’s, um- Her name is Sarah and she’s George Washington’s foster daughter.” It feels so wrong to use Alexander’s deadname like this. Using the wrong pronouns. Reminds him of who he used to be. 

 

    “I’m sure that I could get Betty to whip something up. I’m glad that you’ve finally taken interest in a girl. How long have you been together?” 

 

    “It’s been a few months. I just wanted to make sure that things were going really, really well before I brought her home.” 

 

    “Christian?”

 

    “Episcopal.”

 

    His father hums appreciatively and Thomas can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. This is already going better than he thought it would. As much as he doesn’t like lying, he sure as shit doesn’t want Papa finding out about who Alexander really is.

 

    “I love you, Tommy.” 

 

    “I love you too, sir.” 

 

    Peter hangs up without another word, and Thomas shoves his phone back into his pocket. What the hell is he even doing? His boyfriend is going to pretend to be a girl for his sake and he’s enabling it. This whole thing is fucked. If Alex was less headstrong, he could have maybe convinced him that this was a shit idea, but no. He has the most stubborn boyfriend he could have possibly picked.

 

    The rest of the day is painfully slow, and Thomas can feel himself getting more and more anxious as it progresses. He picks Alexander outside of his Calculus class with little more than a kiss.

 

    “What’s up, baby?” Alex bites his lip once they’re in the car, his eyes more than revealing his worry. “Did I… Did I do something?”

 

    “No, it’s not that. Well, it’s kind of that. You don’t have to do this. I can just take you home and I’ll probably take a beating, but it’s not going to be a-” He sees his boyfriend tense and stops himself short. 

 

    They drive to Thomas’s home without much more conversation, and he’s practically buzzing with nerves when he opens the door. Peter smiles, standing up from where he was waiting by the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come fite me on tumblr: https://adreamoftinysideshows.tumblr.com/


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is headstrong, Thomas is scared, and if you don't hate Peter already, you sure fucking will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Sexism, Misgendering of a Trans Man, and Child Abuse.

    “Now, Betty was already planning on a big dinner for tonight. Sarah, do you have any food allergies that I should know about?” Peter motions toward the kitchen once the young couple has their shoes by the door. Thomas flinches at Alexander’s deadname, but the other teen seems unbothered by it.

 

    “No… I mean, I get headaches when I eat Nutter Butters sometimes, but that’s not really an allergy. Your home is very nice, um, sir.” Alex smiles, following him closely.

_ This is good, this is good, Alexander is doing well, just keep your mouth shut and don’t say anything out of the ordinary and no one will get mad at you. Just keep your head down and only speak when spoken to and don’t say anything that Papa wouldn’t like and he doesn’t have to be angry. You don’t have to make him angry, just be a good boy. Just be good and he won’t hit you, he won’t- _

 

    “Please, call me Peter. I’m sure that Tommy can tell you all about how fantastic a cook Betty is. We’re having a full six courses tonight, so I hope you’re hungry.” Papa pats Alex on the back, guiding him into a chair at the table.

 

    “Oh, yeah, Betty’s great in the kitchen. I mean, yeah, she’s really a good cook.”

 

_ Of course, it has to be a full meal. Of course, you can’t just get off easy with just dinner and nothing else. No, this is going to take three goddamn hours instead of just the one and that’s two extra hours at least that Alexander is going to be here and could see Papa hurt you, you stupid little- _

 

    “Are you alright, son?”

 

    Thomas doesn’t have time to answer because Betty, God bless that woman, is bringing out three plates with stuffed endive on them. She’s in and out, only lingering for long enough that Thomas can say a quiet ‘thank you’.

 

    “Tommy, do you want to say grace tonight?” Papa asks, taking Thomas’s and Alex’s hands in his own. They form a triangle like that, Papa at the head of it.

 

    “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Grace is good. He can’t fuck this up. “ M-Most Holy, Righteous and everywhere present God, our Father who art in Heaven, we ask thy blessing upon this- upon this food. Bless the hearts and hands that provide the same. And when it is ours to pass from time to eternity, o-own us and crown us heirs to Thy kingdom. These favors and blessings we ask in the name of Christ, our Great Redeemer. Amen.” Thomas lets out a breath that he hadn’t been consciously holding, squeezing Alex’s hand before letting go.

 

    “Have you thought about children, Sarah?”

 

    Alexander almost spits out his sparkling water when he hears Papa’s voice, and he looks to Thomas for guidance. He can offer nothing but a small tilt of his head.

 

    “Well, I want to go to law school before anything else. Maybe I’ll have kids after that, but I don’t really know for sure. Just a couple, not an entire baseball team, y’know?” The shorter boy locks his jaw, and Thomas has to force himself to hold in a relieved sigh. 

 

    “That’s a bit ambitious, don’t you think? You’ll have to settle down at some point and give my son at least a couple of little boys. We  _ have _ to have an heir to the company and a few more to split up the inheritance.” Peter flashes a smile, but it’s noticeably strained. 

 

    “Sarah certainly has the grades for it, though. Valedictorian, Columbia bound. Her grades are even better than mine. And I thought that I told you, Papa? I don’t really want kids all that much.” Thomas doesn’t want to hurt his own kids like M- No. He won’t think about her right now.

 

    “I find that hard to believe. Who knows? Maybe something will change. I need little grandsons running around this place.” 

 

    “Grand _ sons _ ? What about granddaughters?” Alex’s voice is getting slightly louder, but he’s not yelling yet. Shit, Thomas has to find some way to change the subject of conversation. He has to prevent a massive argument from breaking out.

 

    “Granddaughters will marry well. We don’t have to worry about them so much. It’s not as though the company will have a woman for a CEO. That’s never happened, and I intend for things to stay that way. Granddaughters won’t need the inheritance.” Papa frowns, starting to sound more than a little condescending. Shit, shit-

 

    Okay, french onion soup is here. He can eat soup and pretend to be happy. 

 

    “I respect that you have your own opinion. Children are a maybe for me, and I’m sure that they’re a maybe for Thomas as well. Who knows if something could happen? I’m not going to say that I never want them.” Alexander, in a rare show of surrender, shrugs his shoulders and blows on a spoonful of his soup. “This is absolutely delicious, by the way. I’m not always a fan of french onion, but this is great.”

 

    The rest of the dinner passes peacefully for the most part. Alexander doesn’t say anything more to provoke Papa and Papa doesn’t say much more that would cause Alexander to say anything. It’s good. 

 

    “We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?” Thomas mumbles, kissing Alex goodbye at the door. Martha is already here to pick him up, looking rather impatient from where she sits in her car. 

 

    When he gets back into the house, he’s greeted by Papa’s angry face.

 

    “P-Papa- I don’t know how to apologize… But I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

 

    “Get your shower done and over with, brush your teeth, come downstairs and get your medicine, and then go to sleep. This isn’t negotiable. No bathroom break tonight, no time for television or homework, none of it. If you want to bring someone that you know is going to be disrespectful into my home, I’ll make your grades suffer for it.” Peter’s voice is dangerously calm as he points upstairs.

 

    “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” 

 

    “No, you’re not. But you will be when you wake up in a puddle of your own filth in the morning. You disgust me. Go.” He shoves Thomas forward roughly, lips twisted into an ugly sort of sneer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is angry and Martha Wayles is a literal life saver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Child Abuse and Non-Consensual Drug Use.

Thomas wakes up to his father looking down at him intensely. Apparently, he hasn't been forgiven yet.

 

“You lied to me. You broke a rule and you lied about it. I'm ashamed, Tommy.” Papa's eyes are flitting from the blanket back up to Thomas. There's nothing wrong with anything in the room at the moment, nothing that would cause anything like this. 

 

“Papa, I don't know what you mean, but I didn't break a rule. I promise that I did everything that you wanted me to.” He’s still groggy from sleeping last night, something that his pills always did to him. He didn’t really want to take them, per say, but he wasn’t given much of a choice. If he refused, they’d just end up slipped into his nightly glass of water or he’d have to use ‘special toothpaste’. 

 

__ _ Don’t be scared, don’t be scared. He won’t hurt you without a reason, and he won’t hit your face. He won’t break any of his rules for himself. You don’t have to worry that he’s going to hurt you more than you deserve. You deserve this, just take your punishment and don’t complain. Don’t be a little bitch, Tommy. _

 

“And now you’re lying about lying. I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done with my sweet, obedient son, but I’d like him back. You used the potty,” Papa says the word mockingly, as though he’s speaking to a seven-year-old instead of a seventeen-year-old. “without permission. If you hadn’t, you’d be soaked with your own urine, and I know for a fact that you wouldn’t change your sheets and pajamas without me telling you that you’re allowed.” 

 

Thomas then realizes that Papa’s still wearing his own pajamas. That’s not a good sign. It’s only Wednesday, he has to work. “I- Is something going on? Why aren’t you dressed to go to the office?” He bites his lip, looking away. 

 

“I’m keeping both of us home for the rest of the week. If you won’t listen to me, then you’re going to have to be punished. Severely. I didn’t want to have to do this, son, but my hand has been forced.” Papa forces Thomas to look at him, the older man smiling almost sadly. 

 

“Because you don’t know how lucky you are. And, really, you are. You’re lucky that I let you eat at all. You’re lucky that I let you keep that mess that you call your hair, and you’re especially lucky that you’re allowed to sleep in a nice warm bed and use the bathroom. I could be so much worse to you, and if you’re not going to be grateful, then I’m going to have to show you how bad this could really be. How far some fathers take disciplining their obnoxious, disobedient, irritating children.” Papa pulls a glass of orange juice of the end table (how had that gotten there?) and presses it to Thomas’s lips. 

 

“If you spill a single drop of this, you little brat, you won’t be able to sit without wanting to cry for three weeks.” 

 

He has to gulp it down extremely quickly to avoid getting it everywhere, hardly having any time to breathe. He wants to spit it out because he’s eighty-seven percent certain that he’s being drugged, but there’s nothing that he can do. It’s just better for him to drink it down and accept the consequences of his own goddamn actions. 

 

“Th- Thank you, Papa.” 

 

“You’re very welcome, son. There’s a good boy. You know, maybe I should homeschool you. Then you wouldn’t have to leave me. After your Mama… Well, let’s just say that you’re all that I have left. I love you so much. You know…” Peter’s smile is almost blinding, and Thomas’s heart practically swells at the sight. He’s done well! He’s pleased Papa!

 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t hear any more of what his father has to say. He’s fallen back on his pillow somehow, and a nap sounds absolutely delightful. His bed is really warm and cozy after all, and he could use the sleep. The more sleep, the better, Papa’s always said. He lets himself succumb to the darkness, sighing contentedly. 

 

     ---

 

“Oh my God, Tom?” Martha practically shrieks, eyes wide as saucers. 

 

Thomas is aware that he doesn’t exactly look his best. He hasn’t eaten and he’s had the shit beaten out of him at least four times since Wednesday. He shouldn’t even be out of the house. Papa would hurt him even more if he knew.

“When you didn’t show up at school me and Jemmy got so worried and Alexander’s been looking everywhere for you!” Her lips are moving a mile a minute, and Thomas doesn’t really understand what’s being said in his drugged haze, but he does know one thing.

 

“Marty, you gotta help me. Please, get me away from Papa. You have to get me away.” He’s shocked by the sound of his own voice, like he’s some lost kid. Martha’s jaw actually drops and she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Who are you calling?” He whimpers, shielding his face instinctively. He just spoke out of turn, and that’s bad. He shouldn’t have done that.

 

   “Children’s Services,” She says simply, dialing a number that she obviously has memorized. 

 

   “But…”

 

   “No buts. You asked me to get you away from that monster, and that’s what I’m going to do. Daddy still has his foster license and I’m sure that he’d take you in.” Later, Thomas would come to realize that Martha was making the best decision that anyone had ever made for him, but now he’s just terrified.

 

   “Police are bad.” He says softly, bouncing his knees a little. He’s already going to be in enough trouble when he gets home. He doesn’t need to make more for himself.

 

   “I’d like to report an instance of child abuse?” Martha is already taking to the person on the other end of the call, telling them everything that she knows. There’s so much more that she doesn’t, though. Things that no one knows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that Thomas is getting away from Peter, things are going to get worse before they get better. What do you think is going to happen? What's the worst part of all of this? Do you hate Peter Jefferson yet?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas moves in with Martha and meets someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Discussion of Child Abuse and some psychiatric stuff.

    The home of John Wayles, The Forest, is nothing like Thomas is used to. For one, it’s much less gloomy. Someone is always making noise. All of the girls running around makes him feel much more at ease, too. He doesn’t have to be scared of them. Girls have soft hands, and soft hands don't hit. They sometimes do other things, but at least they don't  hurt. Martha and her stepmom and her sisters outnumber Thomas and John and the only son two to one, and that seriously sets him at ease.

 

    Martha’s only full sister is named Lilly, and they’d met a few times before then. She and her twin brother Logan are a year older than them, but they still live at home. She has four half sisters, Sarah, Elizabeth, Tabitha, and Anne, in that order. Marty’s stepmom, Mary, is extremely kind, showing Thomas to the guest room as soon as he arrives and doesn’t push him to answer questions.

 

    He would have to tell the cops about everything that happened with Papa later, but he didn’t want anyone to know about that before they had to.

 

    “Are you doing alright, TJ? Daddy’s been worried about you since he found out about… y’know.” Martha’s voice is quiet as she steps forward. She’s been looking at him different since he got there, like he’s some kind of a space alien or something. Or maybe he’s grown a second head. Whatever he’s done to upset her, he wants to fix it so she doesn’t look at him like that any more.

 

   “I’m perfectly fine, Marty. I would have been fine even if you would have just let me stay with Papa. You were just trying to help me, I get that, but you didn’t have to. And once I can talk to the police about how this is all just one big misunderstanding, I’ll be back at home with Papa and we’ll be a family again. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.” Thomas smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring, but his face falls when he sees Martha actually cringe. 

 

    “Honey, what he did to you… Is that how you're supposed to treat someone that you love? Is that how you'd treat Alexander, or me, or Jemmy? You're not safe with him. Home is supposed to be a safe place, where you don't have to worry about being hurt.” Martha sighs and sits down next to him on the bed. She keeps her voice quiet, sort of like how Mama used to do after- The thought sends an actual shiver down his spine.

 

    “What was he supposed to do, then? Just let me run around without any respect for the people that are better, older, and more experienced than me? He was just helping me the best way he knew how. Just punishing me the way that he thought would help me the most. I can’t- I can’t resent Papa for doing what he thought was right.” Thomas bites his lip, trying to argue, but he’s just tired. Tired of people telling him lies about Papa, that he’s bad or abusive or whatever way they want to put it. He just wants to be alone with Papa and happy with him again. “Please, no amount of guilting me is going to change my mind.” 

 

    “Mary and Daddy don’t punish me like that. I get grounded. I get my phone taken away. Neither of them have ever laid a hand on me, and they don’t intend to. Now, can you please just answer my question? Would you make Alexander ask to go to the bathroom? Would you make him sleep outside?”

 

    “It’s different. I’m not Alex’s father, and he doesn’t do anything- He’s perfect. I’m so, so imperfect. Those two things aren’t even close to the same. Can you please just let this go? Please?” 

 

    “Daddy told me to tell you that you have a court-ordered appointment with a therapist tomorrow. That’s why I came up here in the first place. If you really want me to leave, I will. I just don’t want to see you hurting like this anymore.” Marty closes the door behind her softly, leaving Thomas alone to cry his eyes out. 

 

    ---

 

    “So, you were taken away from your father. Can you tell me why that is?”

 

    The therapist, a woman who had introduced herself as Amelie, had a very quiet voice with a hint of an English accent. Her office was covered from top to bottom in purple of every shade, and Thomas can’t help but think that it looks very pretty. The only hint of non-purple color in the room is the silver frame of the lavender painting on the wall. Even her desk is a wood that was stained a deep maroon.

 

    “Well, my friend Martha… She got concerned that maybe Papa was hurting me. And she called Children’s Services because of that.” Thomas dips his head and shrugs, not meeting Amelie’s eyes. She writes something down in her book.

 

    “And how do you feel about your friend Martha telling?” 

 

    “I mean… I know that she was just doing what she thinks is best. But I’m almost… sad, because now I have to go through all of this rigamarole just to see Papa again. He didn’t do anything wrong, and now he’s sitting in prison.” He doesn’t look up, eyes laser-focused on the bright magenta carpet beneath his feet. 

 

    “Why is he in prison, then?” The soft tone of her voice, very non-accusational, is so shocking he has to lift his head. He’s used to people being angry with him for not blaming Papa for what happened. She’s not angry, she’s just curious.

 

    “Well, he spanks me, sometimes, but only if I’m bad. And sometimes he cuts back on my television time and… other things. And Martha got worried that the medicine he gives me every night before bed isn’t what he says it is, even though Papa would never do anything to really hurt me.” 

 

    “I’ve been made familiar with your case, so I’d like to ask you some questions about more specific topics, alright?” She turns her book to a different page, and Thomas thinks a second before nodding. “This says here that you weren’t allowed to use the bathroom if you needed it, only in special circumstances. Can you tell me why that is?”

 

    “It was supposed to teach me self control.” Thomas does nothing like blink, like it’s the most obvious thing in the whole world. “He wouldn’t usually let me go before bedtime, but throughout the day, and any time I needed during school. It was just so I would get on a schedule for stuff like that. And, well… Don’t tell him, but that’s the rule that I broke the most.” 

 

    “Remember, Thomas. Everything that you tell me is confidential, unless you’re planning on hurting yourself or others.”

 

    With that, he completely spills his guts to the woman. Her pen can hardly keep up with the speed he’s talking. He feels so much better afterward, like a whole ton has been lifted off his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes:
> 
> John Wayles had seven legitimate children. 
> 
> His first wife, Martha Eppes Wayles, had three children. A set of fraternal twins, and Martha Wayles, who would later become Martha Jefferson. The twins were ill-fated. The daughter was stillborn and the son only lived for a few hours. 
> 
> His second wife, Mary Cocke Wayles, had four daughters, Sarah, Elizabeth, Tabitha, and Anne. Sarah died young.
> 
> Of course, there was also his relationship with Betty Hemings. This is not included in the story for narrative-related reasons, but it should not be ignored that John Wayles was a racist, rapist piece of shit. 
> 
> I included even the children that died very young because I liked the idea of Thomas, an only child born to shitty parents, being thrust into a huge and loving family. (Of course, the real Thomas Jefferson had several siblings).
> 
> Also, [my headcanon for Martha!](http://dluxe-magazine.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/Imaan-Hammam-NEXT-RESIZED.jpg)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I earn the Explicit rating and Thomas goes to see someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, and sex between two consenting minors.

   Thomas and Alex had a rare moment to themselves amongst all the chaos that was their life. It was Sunday, so the Wayleses were at church, and the Washingtons thought that Alex was with Lafayette. Thomas ended up underneath his boyfriend while bruises were sucked down his neck.

 

    “Baby boy, if you knew how pretty you look right now it’d make your damn head spin. Desperate and flushed and beautiful.” Alex murmurs, running his hands over Thomas’s abdomen. Thomas whines under his attention, bucking his hips in a desperate search for friction. God, he loves Alex. His boyfriend always knows just how to take care of him, how to make him want with every cell in his body.

 

    Alexander sinks down on him and he makes a noise that’s nothing short of animalistic when that familiar, tight heat is wrapped around him. Because it’s just Alex, above him and around him and everywhere, and he’s being used like he’s a damn dildo and he’s loving every second of it.

 

    “Alex…” Thomas whimpers, only to have two fingers pressed into his mouth. He sucks obediently, looking at his boyfriend through slightly hooded eyes.

 

    He comes almost painfully quickly. Alexander takes care of the condom for him, while Thomas just lays there in post-orgasmic bliss. That's exactly what he needed. Some sexual healing. Everything that's going on is tearing him up and he just needs to fuck it all away.

 

    “Mm, I love you, T. You’re so pretty, you know that?” Alex says softly when he’s laid back on the bed. He’s sort of half-draped over Thomas’s chest, pressing kisses to the expanse of dark skin. “‘Cause someone should be telling you all the time. Your hair is so soft and I just wanna kiss those nice, warm lips of yours…”

 

    “Love you too, baby. Peter’s arraignment is in a few days. I’m gonna have to go.” Thomas sighs, half from contentment, but half from all this stress. Who knew that putting your abusive father behind bars where he belonged would be so much work?

 

    “Fuck. That’s bullshit. ‘The rights of the accused’ my left asscheek. Fucker beat the shit out of you, starved you, and made you shit yourself and you still have to be in the same room as him. It’s not fair to you. Not even close.” Alexander frowns, sitting up slightly.

 

    “That’s actualky something that I wanted to talk to you about. I think that I should go see him, while he’s still behind bars. Because if the jury decides-”

 

    “They won’t.”

 

    “ _Anyway_ , if the jury decides that he’s not guilty, I want to be able to see him while it’s still safe. While he can’t lay a hand on me and there’ll be an armed guard in the room.”

 

    “I don’t like it, but you know that I won’t try and stop you. Just- Just be careful.If this is something that you really, really want, I think that you should, as long as you take all the necessary precautions and make sure that someone with a gun is in the same room as you. I just want to make sure that you’re going to be okay. If seeing the piece of shit that abused you is going to bring you some kind of fucked up closure… I think that that’s what would be best.” Alex hums, tracing circles on Thomas’s chest.

 

    “I really do think that it would help. But you wouldn’t be mad? If that was something that i wanted to do?”

 

    “Baby boy, I’ll never be mad at you for doing what you want, so long as you’re not hurting yourself or somebody else. You know that. I love you, and I’m not going to hold you back.” Alex finds himself fascinated with watching Thomas’s hair poof back up when he pets it, and Thomas can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves him.

 

\---

 

    Peter looks… more rough around the edges than what Thomas is expecting. Clearly prison isn’t going well for him. But his eyes brighten somewhat when he sees his son, and Thomas can’t help but preen under that. He put that happiness there. It’s one of the most fucked up things about the way that Papa used to treat him.

 

    “Hi, Papa.” Thomas forces the endearment out through gritted teeth, sitting awkwardly across from his father. The older man smiles softly, shifting where he himself sits.

 

    “A man can’t give his own goddamn son a hug in this place. It’s ridiculous. Don’t you think so?” Peter looks warily towards the guard and shrinks a little. The boy suddenly feels a little foolish for having feared him for so long. He’s a damn coward.

 

    “To be fair, most men weren’t arrested for starving and beating said son.” He shrugs, not afraid of speaking out against his father for the first time in a long time. Peter grimaces, clenching his fists.

 

    “Don’t you dare take that tone with me, Tommy. We both know that once I’m out of here, you’re going to be crawling back to me. No matter what the cops try and say to brainwash you. We both know that you know that I’m not a bad person. Because I’m not. A bad person, that is. I was misguided, but I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Wayles keeping you on your schedules, or have you managed to fuck that up, too?”

 

    “I’ve actually learned some interesting things since Children’s Services came and took me away from the house where you- What happened isn’t important. No, he doesn’t. I’m allowed to snack and drink what I want when I want it and I don’t have to take pills and I can sleep for however long I want. Not to mention he doesn’t starve me for using the bathroom when I need it.” Thomas flinches, expecting to be yelled at, or worse. But he soldiers on, undaunted by the much stronger and taller man that sits in front of him.

 

    “And my name isn’t Tommy. My name is Thomas. Two syllables, six letters, two vowels, and four consonants. I’m ‘T’ or ‘TJ’ to my friends. ‘Tom’ to Papaw and Grammy. You can call me Thomas and nothing else. You took away everything from me. My childhood. My sense of security. You let _Mama_ take away my damn virginity. You don’t get to take away my name on top of everything else that was stolen from me. I’m done here, and I’m done with you. You don’t deserve to be called Papa. Papa is a name for a parent. Someone that cares about his fucking child and doesn’t starve him. Doesn’t rent him out, sell his body like he’s nothing but a damn toy.”

 

     Thomas looks to the guard, who opens the door for him. He leaves a silent Peter in the room alone without so much as a glance in his direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pretty big revelations, eh? Tell me what you think in the comments.
> 
> Also, thank you so much for 1k hits! That means a lot to me!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author skips everything courtroom-related and gets to some fairly fluffy romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, but it's so quick and vague you'll blink and miss it.

_ Guilty _ .

 

_ Guilty. _

 

_ Guilty. _

 

_     Barely a half an hour of deliberation.  _

 

_     Your testimony sealed it. _

 

_     Doctor's examination. _

 

_     He’s going to rot in prison. _

 

_     Sentencing on Monday. _

 

_     At least a life sentence.  _

 

_     You’ll never have to see him again. _

 

_     Stay with John and Mary and Marty until your birthday, and they’ll even keep you after that if you need them to.  _

 

_     You'll have your trust fund when you turn eighteen. _

 

_     You can do this. _

 

_     You have to be able to do this. _

 

_     Be brave. _

 

_     You're not brave. You're a coward. A weak coward. _

 

_     Mama always said that you were brave. You were brave to take Papa’s punishments without complaining and you could always keep quiet when she came into your room.  _

 

    Thomas shakes his head, pushing those thoughts out of his mind. He should be celebrating. This should feel great. Jemmy and Marty brought him snickerdoodles from that bakery that he likes. 

 

    Alexander had hugged him, kissed him outside the courthouse.

 

    He should be happy. Instead, he just feels… empty. Mama didn’t love him like she said. Papa doesn’t love him like he still says to this day, right after they passed each other in the courtroom. Said that he forgave him and everything. 

 

    Instead, everything is wrong. His father, the man who was supposed to be there for him through thick and thin, who was supposed to take care of him, was now recognized by the general public and the justice system alike as a monster. And Thomas? He was the helpless victim. People looked at him with pity when he passed them in the halls of their school. Random strangers told him that things would get better. It almost reminds him of the way people had acted when Mama died.

 

    In a way, he’s lost his only surviving parent. He’ll never see him without reinforced glass between them or an armed guard in the room ever again. They’ll never eat dinner together ever again. They’ll never swap Christmas presents. Thomas won’t ever earn a movie night with extra popcorn. He won’t ever have to go to church again. He won’t ever sing in the choir again. He won’t ever get to see Papa smile at him when he’s done well. 

 

    What does college matter if he won't have anyone at his graduation? No one to take teary-eyed pictures as he holds his diploma. 

 

    And that all just hurts. Maybe he shouldn't have ever gone out of his way to see Martha that day. Maybe he shouldn’t have told anyone anything. His little secret that he shared with his parents. Instead, it’s public record and everyone in the world knows or could know with very little searching.

 

    “Baby? We don’t have to go out tonight if you don’t want. I’m sure that George would order us a pizza if I asked him to and we could just watch old movies in the basement? Are you in a Molly Ringwald mood or a Winona Ryder mood?” Alex says softly, taking Thomas’s hand. The taller boy hadn’t even realized his boyfriend was speaking. He forces a smile, bringing Alexander’s knuckles to his lips.

 

    “That sounds perfect, actually. It’s been a long day, and I really don’t know if I’m feeling up to talking to people that… That don’t really know me? About everything that happened. Definitely a Winona mood.” Thomas shrugs a little, looking down.

 

    It was just so… Public. One of America’s richest men was actually an abusive, human trafficking piece of shit. He broke his son beyond repair, pimped him out and beat him. Reporters had swarmed him for the first few weeks after it all got out, but then they’d stopped. It wasn’t hot news after that point. He’d been foolish and naive enough to think that maybe, just maybe, people had forgotten all about it. That people wouldn’t see him as a whore any more. A mouthpiece for abused kids. He doesn’t _ want _ any of this. He doesn't want people to basically interrogate him about Mama and Papa. He just wants all the noise to go away.

 

    “Then that’s what we’ll do. Pepperoni only?” Alexander smiles, knowing him all too well as usual. “And then we’ll watch badass mom be a badass. Is this a Heathers Winona day or a Beetlejuice Winona day?” 

 

    “Heathers?”

 

    “You just want to fuck Christian Slater.”

 

    “Yeah, probably. Is there something  _ wrong _ with me wanting to fuck Christian Slater?”

 

    “Um, in Heathers he looked like he’d never seen a shower. So probably. But, hey. You think that it’s weird that I want to fuck Morgan Freeman.” Alex giggles, poking Thomas in the ribs gently. 

 

    “One, he’s like eighty. Two, he’s fucking Morgan Freeman. If Tom Hanks is America’s dad, he’s like America’s cool grandpa. Joe Biden’s our cool uncle and Obama’s our sorta strict but sweet step-grandpa.” Thomas can’t help but laugh, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist. 

 

    “Maybe I have a Grandpa kink.”

 

    “You disgust me.”

 

    “You love it.”

 

    Alex drives them to the Washingtons’, singing along to the radio. He can’t sing extremely well, but it seriously makes Thomas feel better.

 

    Their pizza takes all of fifteen minutes to get there, but they already have Heathers cued up on DVD. It’s almost second nature at this point, they’ve watched it together so many times. It’s not crazy good or anything, but it’s really funny and they always get a good laugh out of it. 

 

    “Heather Duke is such a bitch. I swear to god, I would have slapped the shit out of her  _ way _ sooner.” Thomas grumbles, taking another bite of his pizza. Alexander just laughs, curling into him a little more. “I’m serious! She had it coming! Heather Chandler was a massive asshole but at least she wasn’t Duke.”

 

    “Where do you think bitching about a movie that’s been around longer than you have is going to get you? Spoiler alert: There’s absolutely no point in it.” Alex buries his face in Thomas’s chest, inhaling deeply. “You smell so good, baby. So, so good. Like safety and home.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has to return to normalcy and James Reynolds is a prick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Homo/Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse.

    “Sorry about everything that happened, dude. I mean… Yeah. That probably sucks. Just wanted you to know that I’m glad that you’re okay?” Someone that Thomas doesn’t even know the name of pats him on the shoulder with a bit of a grimace. He couldn’t tell you the name of this kid. 

 

    “Thanks.” He doesn’t know what else to say at this point. This is an exchange that he has probably three or four times a day. He’s given the death stare to a few Freshman, but anyone older than them has to be more subtly dismissed. He doesn’t know what people  _ want _ from him. Papa’s rules had been a lot, but they were easy to remember. He always knew what was expected of him, but he had to go and fuck it all up.

 

    People either see him as a fragile porcelain doll or damaged goods, and it’s beyond frustrating. 

 

    The bell rings and he sits down, fiddling with the hem of his standard issue (and hella expensive) polo. That’s another easy rule. The school uniform is something that he knows how to follow. Something’s either allowed or not allowed. It’s black and white, and it’s very refreshing in the spectrum of colors that is societal expectations. 

 

     “Um, sir? I forgot my homework. I know that it’s a zero, but you should just know. In case you’re wondering when I don’t pass it up.” This was Calculus, not sixth grade math. Something was either turned in or a zero. Surprisingly enough, the teacher doesn’t even bat an eyelash before tilting his head to the side and smiling a little.

 

    “That’s fine, Thomas. Just get it in to me tomorrow, alright? Don’t worry about it. You have enough to deal with.” He says quietly, looking up at his student with a concerned expression. “I really am sorry about that, by the way. It’s horrible, everything that happened to you. You’ve always been such an exceptional student, and I never would have guessed that- Well, I never thought that something like that could happen to someone that I actually knew.”

 

    “Thank you, sir.” Thomas could almost sigh from pure exhaustion. What are people trying to accomplish by telling him they’re sorry? People that didn’t give a rat’s ass before. The only people within these walls that actually care about him are Jemmy, Marty, Laf, and Alex. They’re the only friends that he needs, the only people that he needs to hear condolences from. 

 

    “He might not have seen in coming, but the rest of us all did. You’ve always been a damn  _ freak _ , Jefferson. Who knew that you were such a slut, too?” 

 

    Fucking shit. James motherfucking Reynolds. His girlfriend, Maria might be her name, is super sweet, but he’s single handedly the biggest dick… ever. Thomas hunches over in his seat a little, nervously nibbling on the end of his pen.

 

    “What are you, fucking deaf? Or are you just that dumb? I'm talking to you, you pathetic piece of shit. It's no wonder that your 'Papa’ did everything he did. But you just can't fix stupid.” James's voice is absolutely venomous. 

 

    “Stop it. Please, just stop it. I don't know what I did, but I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.” Thomas whispers, curling his hands into his hair. All it would take to rip it all out is one good tug. But he can't do that, because then he wouldn't even be pretty, so he lets it go and clenches his fists by his sides.

 

    “Oh my God, you're pathetic. If it wasn't so sad it would almost be funny. I bet that you'd just about give me anything I asked for. If I wanted you to strip down naked right now and let me take you, you probably would let me. 'Course, I'm not a damn  _ fag  _ like you and your tranny girlfriend, but the option’s still there.” James snorts, shaking his head.

 

    Oh, no. That shit is  _ so  _ not on. The moment that he brings Alex into this is the moment that it's all over. All he can see is red as he stands and punches Reynolds with everything he has. He can practically feel the other boy's nose break under his fist. He’s not crazy strong or anything, but he has some muscle on him. He doesn’t know what to say, if anything.

 

    Someone’s screaming, and it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize that it’s him. He’s screaming so loud that his curls are actually shaking and his head is starting to hurt a little bit. 

 

    “Alexander isn’t my  _ girlfriend _ ! He’s my boyfriend, you homophobic, transphobic, waste of space piece of shit sorry excuse for a human being!”

 

    “Both of you, go down to the office! Now!” The teacher barks suddenly, and the gravity of what he’s just done suddenly hits Thomas. He’s going to get suspended, and then his grades are going to go down the toilet, and then he’ll be going to some community college in a town that no one’s ever heard of. Shit.

 

    He looks at the floor with a laser focus all the way to the office. He doesn’t know if he should apologize or if he should roll over and get fucked. That’s the really fucked up part - His first instinct is to offer himself up every time someone even gets kind of mad at him. Instead of punching his way out or being a total pacifist when things get confrontational, he wants to fuck whoever’s bigger and stronger. It’s totally fucked.

 

_ Papa would be mad at you. _

 

_     Papa isn’t here. _

__

_     Papa isn’t here because of you. _

 

_     You had to go and bitch because that’s all you ever do. _

 

_     Why don’t you go and cry about it, you pathetic piece of shit? _

 

_     You should be able to handle this.  _

  
    He should have just let Papa kill him. That would have been so much better than this. Now he's going to get in trouble and it's all going to be his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Thanksgiving present to you is a cliffhanger (sorta).


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an incident in the principal's office and Thomas goes home and things get sort of fluffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: A rape victim attempting to offer himself up and Implied/Referenced Homo/Transphobia.

    “Thomas, you have a squeaky clean record. You have a 4.0 GPA. Why would you get into a fight so close to graduation?” Mr. Adams sighs, resting his head in his hands. The principal’s office is nice, Thomas supposes. The walls are a comforting shade of blue. The chair that he’s sitting in is really comfortable.

 

    “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” He whispers, looking down at his lap. He can hardly even hear his own voice. God, when John gets this phone call it’s going to be so terrible. John is going to get mad at him and maybe even hit him because he’s bad and he  _ deserves _ to be hit. Papa had the right idea all along.

 

_ It’s the only way you’ll ever learn, Tommy. _

 

__ “Something had to have provoked it, son. You’re not the type to just punch someone because the thought suddenly struck you. Please, just help me understand why you did what you did.” Adams fiddles with his cufflinks. He’s not a bad looking man. Not like his cousin John, the vice principal. If Mr. Adams wanted to have him, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He could just close his eyes and pretend that it wasn’t happening. It’s all going to be over soon enough.

 

     “James was saying things that weren’t especially kind about my boyfriend. And, I, uh- He called me some things. I mean, they were true, but they weren’t- I just got mad at him. I’m sorry that I hurt him. Can I just apologize to him and you’ll suspend me and we can just get this over with?” Thomas whimpers softly, spreading his legs a little in a way that’s almost second nature at this point. If Mr. Adams says the word, he’ll just bend over the desk and everything will be forgiven. Hopefully.

 

    “What did he say? I just want to hear your side of all this. Just tell me what he did, and if it wasn’t your fault, I won’t have to suspend you. This is your first offense, anyway, and I’m sure that I could get you something light. An after-school detention at worst, nothing but a slap on the wrist at best.” 

 

    “He called me a fag. Called my boyfriend my girlfriend and called him a… a very transphobic word that I don’t think that I can bring myself to repeat.” No, that would be too much of an ‘Old Thomas’ move. How he used to be, before Alex showed him that being gay or trans or whatever wasn’t a bad thing or sinful. “And he said that I was, um- He said that I was a freak. That I was a slut. I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt a little.” If he can get off without much of a punishment, he’ll  _ have _ to be good. To show that he isn’t ungrateful on top of everything else.

 

    “I’m sorry that he did that. Look, I’m not going to crucify you over this. You’ll have a lunch detention on Thursday. He’ll have to write an apology letter and he’ll have a lunch detention on Friday.” Adams runs his hands through white hair and Thomas visibly perks up. His hands are flying down to his belt buckle before he even really knows what he’s doing. It takes Adams a long time to realize what he’s doing, and he looks visibly distressed.

 

    “No. No, that’s not- I don’t want you to do that. Don’t do that. Please, Thomas, just go back to class.” 

 

    The boy buttons his pants back up and tries not to look dejected as he leaves the main office. 

 

    ---

 

    “TJ, did you get into a fight today?” John says softly after Thomas steps in the door. Marty sort of takes that as her cue to leave and goes upstairs. Shit, he’s in for it. John is going to kick him out or worse because he can’t just be good.

 

    “Y-Yeah. I’m sorry, sir. He was just saying really awful things and I know that it’s not an excuse, but I didn’t-”

 

    “Please don’t apologize, and please don’t call me ‘sir’. I don’t know the kid, but I do know his parents, and they’re major assholes. We’re having macaroni and cheese with dinner, and I know that that’s your favorite, so get washed up, okay? Then homework, then whatever you want, then shower, then sleep.” John always knows just what to say to him to put him at ease. It’s not a true schedule, not like what Papa had when every minute of his day was planned out, but it’s comforting to always know what’s going to come next.

 

    “Okay, thank you.” Thomas smiles, feeling some of the tension drain out of his shoulders. He washes his hands and settles down on the couch, flipping through Instagram on his phone. Mary had been adamant about him getting a new one, so he just went along with it. It was lighter than his old phone, even though they were the same kind of the same brand. It was sort of strange, but he wasn’t going to ask questions and risk making anyone mad at him. 

 

    He feels a light tapping on his shoulder, and turns around to see Annie looking very hopeful. 

 

    “Thomas, will you paint my toenails? Pretty please? They always look real pretty when you do it.” She’s so damn cute. The boy smiles, pulling her up into his lap.

 

    “‘Course I will. I couldn’t say no to you. Go pick me out a couple of colors. I know that you like when I do patterns, and we  _ just _ have enough time before dinner.” He’ll have to wash his hands again before they actually eat, but he can’t bring himself to care. One of the seven closest things he’s ever had to siblings is counting on him to paint pretty flowers on her toes, and he’s not about to let her down.

 

    They end up looking very nice. Thomas isn’t one to brag very much, but he is sort of good at nail art. Papa never let him draw, said that it was for girls and fairies, and used to rip anything he drew into shreds. That never stopped him from doodling in his school notebooks or doing Marty’s nails for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, you nerds. Happy Thanksgiving!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday and a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, and something that I can't reveal now without spoiling the whole chapter.

    “Happy birthday, Thomas!” 

 

    The boy opens his eyes blearily to see John, Mary, Marty, and his other technically foster siblings crowded around his bed with all kinds of balloons. Annie even has a noisemaker, which she blows in his face. He smells what he thinks is blueberry pancakes coming from downstairs. Thomas can’t help but grin widely, throwing his arms around Marty, who’s the closest person to him. 

 

    “You didn’t tell us what kind of present you wanted, but we took a wild guess.” Mary looks a little bit shy as she gestures towards a pile of neatly-wrapped presents in the corner of his bedroom. It’s his turn to be shy, though, because he specifically remembers asking for nothing. 

 

    “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything! I don’t need-” He starts, only to be cut off by John. He looks distinctly and ridiculously like Betty when he bops Thomas on the head gently with a (thankfully clean) spatula. He has an apron on and everything. 

 

    “Shush! We got you presents because we wanted to get you presents, and your birthday isn’t always about what you want. Now, come downstairs. I made pancakes. I’m totally just trying to toot my own horn here, but I make fantastic pancakes.” The man gently tugs Thomas out of bed and he’s surrounded by children and adults alike as they make their way down to the dining room. There’s a plate clearly for him set up at the head of the table, with one of those corny hats and everything. It’s much earlier than he would usually get up, but he can’t bring himself to be cranky. 

 

    He could leave today. He’s legally an adult, he has his own money, and lots of it. But the Wayles family have been too good to him for him to just suddenly leave. The kids are like the siblings he’s never had. Logan and Lilly tease him, Tabby and Annie look up to him, and Mary and John treat him like he’s one of their own. It’s the greatest thing he’s ever experienced, this amount of love. He sighs happily as he sits down in the chair, digging into the (admittedly amazing) pancakes in front of him with gusto. 

 

    “I went ahead and had Marty invite James, your boyfriend, and your friend Lafayette over here for dinner and presents tonight. Is there anyone else you can think of? They’re more than welcome, I just need to get a head count. We’re having red velvet cake, apple pie with  _ plenty _ of vanilla ice cream, steaks, french fries, and five cheese macaroni. That sound okay?” 

 

    Thomas could just about cry when he hears Mary blabbering about his birthday like it’s nothing. Like earning all of this would have left him bleeding and stretched out beyond relief in a place that only Alex is allowed to touch him with Papa. No, he’s not going to let himself think about Papa today. He doesn’t get to have  _ this _ birthday, too. He already got seventeen of them, and his eighteenth and every one after this is all for him and who he decides gets to be involved. This birthday is for his new family, his friends, his boyfriend, and him. Not for a man that hurt him and let other people hurt him on top of it.

 

    He shakes his head to get ditch any and all Papa-related thoughts and focuses on the family,  _ his _ family, that sits in front of him. Liz grins over at him goofily before returning to whatever she was doing on her cell phone.

 

    He feels a warmth in his stomach that he can’t quite shake.

 

    ---

 

    “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Thomas! Happy birthday to you!” Thomas is surrounded by his friends now, sitting in the school cafeteria. He pretends to blow out the fake candle stuck on top of the cupcake, but he doesn’t have anything to wish for. He already has everything he could ever want.

 

    “I was going to bring my present to school for you,  _ frère _ , but then when Martha told me that we were to be celebrating at your home after classes are finished, I knew that I should save it for then.” Laf smiles, pulling him into a hug. He’s not entirely wrong in calling him  _ frère _ , they look very similar. Not identical, but they could be brothers. 

 

    “You didn’t have to get me anything. Tater tots and cold pizza with y’all is enough for me.” 

 

    Jemmy scoffs, punching him on the shoulder lightly. “Dude, fuck off. We wanted to do this for you. You deserve it. If there’s anyone in the world that should have a ridiculously happy birthday, it’s you.”

 

    “For once in his damn life, James is right.” Alexander laughs softly, nuzzling close to Thomas. It might be PDA, but he doubts that anyone’s going to call them out on it. 

 

    “Fucking hell, Alex, you liked him enough to nail that project for History a couple months ago.” Thomas couldn’t keep himself from giggling softly, wrapping one arm around Alex’s waist. He honestly has the best boyfriend in the whole damn world. 

 

    “I’ve been craving some of that cold pizza anyways. Gimme!” The shortest boy in their little group plucks it off his boyfriend’s tray and wolfs it down without any more preamble.

 

    ---

 

    He gets another round of ‘Happy Birthday’ at home after they’ve all finished their dinner. A slice of red velvet cake is set in front of him, and he looks down at it like it’s the most precious thing in the whole world. It sort of is. In a weirdly poetic way, it symbolizes a new year with a new family. God only knows where he’ll be on April 13th 2018. 

 

    Once Jemmy and Laf have gone home, Alex lingers. He looks very worried as he steps out of the bathroom, holding something that Thomas can’t quite see. 

 

    “Baby, is there something wrong?” Thomas excuses himself from his conversation with Tabby and shuffles over to his boyfriend. The shorter boy shuffles where he stands, looking down at the floor.

 

    “Promise me that you won’t be mad.”

 

    “I promise that I won’t be mad. Alexander, should I be worried about this?”

 

    “Maybe.”

 

    “Can you just please tell me what’s the matter? I want to know what’s bugging you.”

 

    Alexander holds out a pregnancy test (that Thomas has  _ no  _ idea where he got), and whimpers quietly.

 

    “Thomas, I’m… I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a big reveal, eh?
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family discussion time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Discussion of abortion. (As a possiblity, not as an actual thing that happened.)

    “You’re pregnant. There’s a… There’s a thing growing inside of you. A human thing.” Thomas’s eyes get wide suddenly, and his eyes hone in on Alexander’s stomach. The shorter boy scoffs and crosses his arms.

 

    “Yeah, I figured that out. What are we… What are we gonna do? You knew that I wanted to wait until we were out of college. I can’t go to  _ prom _ pregnant.” For once in the time that Thomas has known him, Alex looks like he doesn’t know what to do. That’s not his Alex. His Alex always knows just what to say or how to act.

 

    “What do  _ you _ think we should do, honey? I mean… Are you going to keep it?” He knows that this is his fault. Three weeks ago, they didn’t have a condom and thought that it wouldn’t matter. They broke Washington’s only rule about them having sex and here they are. Alex is pregnant.

 

    “I don’t know. I don’t know. You have to help me make this decision, I can’t do it by myself. I don’t know how you expect me to make a decision like that by myself. Do you… Do you want to keep it?” Alexander is barreling towards a panic attack, and he’s not quite sure what he should say. Usually it’s simple - reassuring him that he knows the material on their test like the back of his hand or patting his back and calling him handsome. This one isn’t going to be that simple.

 

    “I’m going to be more than happy with whatever decision you make. This is your decision, baby, and it’s sure as hell not mine.” 

 

    “That’s not what I  _ asked _ , Thomas! I want to know if you do or do not want me to give birth to the human being currently living inside my uterus!”

 

    Thomas can’t help but wince at the tone, but he isn’t going to do any more to show his boyfriend that he’s genuinely scared that he’s going to be hit. “I think… I think that we would be good dads. I think that maybe this is our chance to have a kid or kids before you start on testosterone, and I think that I probably want to have this baby. But I think most of all that we should tell our parents about it.”

 

    “I know that this wasn’t the birthday present that you wanted to get from me. I knew that I had to tell you, though. And the sooner you knew, the sooner I could get myself ready for having a baby.” Alex laughs in a way that’s almost sad. “We’re going to be… We’re going to be dads. Before we’re even twenty. I’m going to have your baby. And we’re going to have to go to school while it’s growing up.” 

 

    “It’s not like you’re going to have to work. And I’ll wait to go to college if you want to have one of us at home with the baby. You can go off and be our quick-witted lawyer and I’ll be the stay-at-home dad.” 

 

    “I can’t ask you to do that. You’d get too restless at home. I know you.”

 

    “No, I really wouldn’t. Not with a baby to keep up with. A baby that was just as smart as you, with your pretty eyes.” 

 

    “God, I can see you being all domestic now. A baby on either hip and one strapped to your chest everywhere you went. A diaper bag on your shoulder and baby puke that never quite came off of your shirts. You would be such a perfect dad. All supportive, taking an airhorn to our kid’s chess tournament or some shit.” Alex hums, moving forward to wrap his arms around Thomas. 

 

    Well, shit.

 

    ---

 

    “So, um. John, Mary. George, Martha… We didn't really know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to spit it out… Alex is pregnant. Please don't be mad.” Thomas says almost a little too hastily, squeezing Alexander's hand like a lifeline. 

 

    Nobody says anything for a long time. It's Martha that speaks up first, with one raised eyebrow.

 

    “Are you going to keep it? I'm sort of concerned that… I have all the same concerns as anyone would have if their teenager was pregnant.” She keeps her voice sort of soft and her lips are drawn into a thin line. 

 

    “Yeah. We are. Once I start on HRT, I probably won't be able to have kids. And I know that Thomas sort of wants them, and I do, too. I wouldn't have to work  _ and _ go to school and be a dad because of his trust fund. We have more than enough money to get us both through college and support a baby. We'll get married if that's what you want, but we want to keep this baby.” Alexander's mouth is moving at a mile a minute, and he's hardly coherent.

 

    “I don't see why this is a problem. If you both want the baby, and you're both committing to take care of it, and you're both willing to put some things on hold for it, you should have the baby.” Mary shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. 

 

    “I do want you two to get married before the baby is born, though. I don't want it to come into this world out of wedlock. It's bad enough it was conceived out of wedlock.” John mumbles, only to be hit on the arm playfully by Mary. It's a discussion he and Thomas have had before. He wasn't concerned with Thomas being gay or Alex being trans - the problem was with them having premarital sex.

  
     “Who's going to make the OB/GYN appointment?” Thomas can't keep the grin off his face and rests his hand on Alex's thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this twice, whoops?
> 
> Tell me what you think! I live for comments.
> 
> Also, there are only going to be three or four more chapters. Maybe a sequel. Is another story in this 'verse something that you would want to see?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens shows his ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: A small fight, internalized sexism, and serious mentions of child abuse.

    “‘Lex, are you going to Angie’s party tonight?” 

 

    Thomas can’t help but overhear John Laurens talking to his Alex when they’re in the library. They used to date, until Alex moved on to Angelica’s sister, Eliza. They seem like they’re good friends, and only good friends, but he can’t ever be too sure. Not that he thinks Alex would cheat or anything, he’s more scared that Laurens has hurt feelings over the breakup and would want to hurt his boyfriend. 

 

    “Can’t, Jack. We both know what Angie’s parties are like when Schuyler’s out of town, and… I was meaning to tell our entire friend group at the same time, but you’re going to get hella suspicious if I don’t give you an excuse. I’m… I’m pregnant. With Thomas’s kid. I’m about five weeks along, and we’re going to get married this summer.” He can hear the nervousness in Alexander’s voice and he almost wants to walk over there. But then he would be in trouble for eavesdropping, and he doesn’t really want that. 

 

    “You’re pregnant. With Jefferson’s kid. And you’re  _ keeping _ it?! What ever happened to you being a lawyer? What ever happened to you keeping whatever shred of independence you have? Don’t you realize that he’s going to leave you flat on your ass broke three years from now and you’re going to have to go crawling to him for child support payments while you struggle to pay for school?!” 

 

_ Laurens is right. Alex should be ashamed to be having your baby. He’s not a slut like you are, hasn’t had so many cocks up there. Laurens would be better for him, anyway. Laurens doesn’t bitch and whine constantly and piss himself like he’s a little baby that never even learned to be potty trained. Laurens didn’t let people touch him for money, didn’t let people do things to him and use him and own him for a little more dinner or a couple more minutes to sleep in every morning. _

 

    “Shut up about my boyfriend! He wouldn’t do that to me! You don’t have to be so fucking jealous all the time! He loves me, and I love him, and me and him and this baby are going to be happy together!” Alex is shouting, shouting because of him. He’s so bad. He’s such a bad boy, he should have just stayed home and let himself be used and not thrown a fit and not gotten tangled up with his boyfriend. He should have just been a good boy, but now the only person that he’s ever been in love with like this is mad because of him.

 

    “Can you please keep your voices down? There are other people trying to work in here.” Thomas whispers to the pair of them, fiddling with the laminated corner of his GLOT badge. He’s a glorified errand boy, but he loves every paper he has to deliver to the office for a teacher or book he has to reshelve in the library.

 

    “You knocked up my best friend and you’re trying to tell me to not be upset about it?” Laurens is only getting louder, and his voice is starting to make Thomas’s head hurt. 

 

    “It’s just the policy in the library, I didn’t mean to-”

 

    “Yeah, well, you did.” Laurens gives him a rough shove, and Thomas was so unprepared for it he stumbles back into the bookshelf behind him. 

 

    “Don’t you  _ dare _ touch my boyfriend.” Thomas was half-considering dropping to his knees and just letting the other boy do whatever he wanted until he hears Alex’s voice, low and almost like a growl. “I’m absolutely overjoyed that I get to have his baby. I want to be a father with him, and fuck if I’m going to let  _ your _ jealousy get in the way of  _ my _ happiness. You have your own shit to figure out, John, and I’m not going to stick around and watch you deal with it, and I’m sure as shit not going to let you take it out on Thomas. Come on, baby, we’re going.”

 

    It’s Alex’s free period, not his, but he isn’t about to say no to his boyfriend.  _ His _ boyfriend, who just stuck up for him against someone that he’s been friends with since Kindergarten. 

 

    “Thank you. I didn’t… Thank you. You really didn’t need to do that. I would have been fine on my own.” Thomas murmurs, not meeting Alexander’s eyes. He doesn’t know the words he should be using to thank him. He doesn’t know if there  _ are _ the words to thank him.

 

    “He was out of line, TJ. He shouldn’t have said all that shit about you. It’s not fair to you that people, even my friends, think that they have a right to say those awful things. After Eacker… Well, I just feel like I have to protect you from assholes.” Alex was talking like it was no big deal. Like he didn’t just maybe ruin a friendship for the stupid whore that didn’t even know how to use a condom. 

 

     “You’re the one that’s pregnant. You’re the one that I should be taking care of. I should be providing you and protecting you instead of just leeching off all your bravery. I should be able to take somebody’s criticism and be able to defend you at the same time. I need to step up and just be a  _ man _ .” 

 

    “Don’t start that shit with me, Thomas. You don’t have to be whatever masculine stereotype that Peter made you think a man has to be. You’re perfect just the way you are. You don’t have to be all ‘grr’ and ‘testosterone’ and ‘I have balls’. You’re my sweet Thomas that likes drawing and macaroni and cheese and apple pie. You don’t have to be an overly-masculine asshole or whatever you think you have to be.” Alex suddenly gets very serious, resting his hand on Thomas’s shoulder and stares up at him severely.

 

    “I love you, Alex.”

 

    “I love you too, baby boy.”

 

    God, he loves it when Alex calls him baby boy. It makes him feel… Loved. And cared for. Almost like he’s precious somehow, like his heart is his boyfriend’s most prized possession. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, there's only a little bit left! Tell me what you want to see in a sequel!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prom and sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Transphobia, Misgendering of a Trans Man, and Explicit Sexual Content.

    God, Thomas is the absolute luckiest. Alex looks ridiculously handsome in his tuxedo, as expected, and he managed to sucker Washington into a proper stretch limo. It’s not going to stand out  _ too _ much at their school that’s overflowing with the kids of the exorbitantly wealthy, but being picked up by the most perfect person in the world and being taken to a dance where they’re going to show each other off? He may as well be royalty.

 

    “Hey, sweetie,” Alexander gets up on his tiptoes and Thomas leans down a little bit so they can share a soft kiss. “You look so nice. You excited?” He hands over a bouquet of roses and Thomas honestly thinks that he could faint. 

 

    “You look even better than I do. And of course I’m excited. I get to be all sweet and gay in front of everyone that I know.” He laughs quietly, melting into Alexander’s hand when a curl is tucked behind his ear. It’s casual displays of affection like those that always has Thomas swooning.

 

    Mary takes a shit ton of pictures of both him and Marty (whose girlfriend, Brooke, looks very pretty in her pale purple dress, which is complimented very well by Martha’s pastel yellow one). Eventually they’re let go, Marty and Brooke into Brooke’s car and Alexander and Thomas into their limousine. 

 

    “Alexander Hamilton, being escorted by Thomas Jefferson.” 

 

    It's more Thomas Jefferson being escorted by Alexander Hamilton, but he isn't about to say anything. After they get their picture taken, they find a spot that's near a corner and sit down. 

 

    The table isn’t especially large, but fourteen people end up crowded around it. Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan, Angelica Schuyler and her boyfriend John, Eliza and her girlfriend Maria, Peggy Schuyler and their boyfriend Stephen, James and Dolley, Martha and Brooke and, of course, Thomas and Alexander.

 

    “Do you wanna go dance?! Please? I really wanna dance with you.” Alex looks up at Thomas with big eyes, and how can he say no to that perfect face? How can anyone say no to someone as perfect as his Alexander. 

 

    That’s how most of the night goes. Thomas is suckered into many-a dance, even trades off to give some of their other friends a whirl with a trained ballroom dancer. He doesn’t have a crazy amount of space to maneuver around in, but he makes it work. There’s lots of laughter and Alex’s friends aren’t too bad. Peggy, Eliza, and Angelica are all super sweet, and their partners aren’t too bad. Hercules is sort of quiet but has a ridiculously dirty mind. All in all, they’re not the worst people on planet Earth. 

 

    When prom court is announced, however, everything very quickly goes south. 

 

    “And your prom king is… Thomas Jefferson!” It’s nothing short of shocking. He’s not exactly friendless, but he’s certainly not popular enough to be prom king. When prom queen is announced, the pieces start to fall into place. 

 

    “And for prom queen, we have Sarah Hamilton!” 

 

    He sees Alex, looking nothing short of shell-shocked. He can see the tears in his boyfriend’s eyes even from across the room, and he knows that he has to make a very quick decision. 

 

    “I think that there’s been a mistake?” Thomas snatches the microphone from the random kid that was picked to announce and makes careful eye contact with Alexander. “Alex clearly  _ has  _ to be king, because everyone knows that I’m the reigning queen! Sorry, baby, but there’s only room enough for one person to be queen.” He gestures up to the stage and Alex shuffles over with a blindingly bright grin on his face. 

 

    “I believe that this belongs to you?” Thomas giggles softly, taking the crown from atop his own head and placing it on Alex’s. He snatches the queen’s tiara from off its cushion and arranges it in his curls. Alex leans up and throws his arms around his neck, to scattered applause which quickly become thunderous. Thomas bows a little with a small smirk on his face. 

 

    “So, Queen Thomas, do you have anything planned for later tonight?” Alex wiggles his eyebrows suggestively in the middle of their dance, while his hand on Thomas’s waist tightened slightly. “‘Cause I think that the only ride I want home is on the nine inch express.” Thomas breaks into nervous laughter, suddenly feeling very,  _ very _ flustered. 

 

    “‘S nine and a half. But, um, not really? I don’t… I figured that we would hookup or something, only because that’s what you do on prom night, but I didn’t have anything specific planned.” That’s a lie through his teeth. There are roses and jasmine-scented candles and little chocolates waiting for them at home. Mary, John, and the little kids were ditching so Thomas could bring Alexander home and Marty could sneak in at two in the morning without the little ones getting suspicious. 

 

    “I can totally see you kissing me all over and then maybe eating me out. That sounds perfect, what a good idea you just had there. That was your idea. Definitely.” Alex snorted, burying his face in Thomas’s chest and inhaling.

 

    “If that’s what you want, baby, then that’s what you’ll get. You’re the King after all. I’m yours to rule over. If you’re a king, then I’m your castle, your subjects, and your queen.” 

 

    “Why do you have to be such a fucking overly-poetic dork?”

 

    “I’m  _ your _ overly-poetic dork, and you fucking love it.”

 

    “You’re probably right. Or maybe it’s just your dick. Who knows. You do have a magnificent penis, which I’m very much looking forward to impaling myself on later.” 

 

    “Ew, I hate that word.” Thomas wrinkles up his nose like he’s just smelled something disgusting. 

 

    “What, do you not like it when I say penis? Does it make you uncomfortable? Are you saying that I  _ shouldn’t _ say penis?” 

 

    “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

 

    “Well, then I’ll stop saying penis. You’re probably going to have to remind me not to say penis, though, because I say penis quite frequently.”

 

    Thomas sighs, this is going to be a long night. 

 

    ---

 

    “God, you're so good with your- Ah!” Alex is cut short after a particularly targeted kiss to his nipple. As promised, Thomas is kissing him all over. Earth, Wind, and Fire plays softly in the background, the lights are dimmed, and the air is comfortably heavy with essential oils and candles. It's perfect. Romantic and sweet and amazing. 

 

    Eating him out is nothing. Thomas knows every spot that could end his boyfriend spiraling into madness from the sheer pleasure of it all, but he decides to draw things out a little. They aren't in a rush or anything.

 

    “Shit, baby, stop being such a little tease!” Suddenly there are hands in his hair, only that's reminding him of Mama and he has to physically pull away.

 

    “Please don't do that? If you want to I guess that you can, but I'd really rather you didn't.” Thomas whispers, before returning to pleasing his perfect little Alexander.

 

    “That's okay. I won't do it again, promise. Thank you for telling me that it didn't make you comfortable. That's progress.” 

 

    Thomas knows, consciously, that he has a bad habit of letting Alex do whatever he wants to him. And he's been working with Amelie to help get better with all of that, and he's surprised that it's working.

 

    Making love is another thing that's routine in an exciting way. Two souls joining together and appreciating each other's bodies and company. When he comes it's deep inside his boyfriend, and he collapses a little beside him. 

  
    They cuddle and eat chocolate and chat. And the entire time, Thomas can't help but think about how far he's come. Because with his boyfriend and their baby, he can do anything. No matter what's happened to him in the past or what's going to happen to him in the future. If he has Alex, he'll get through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaannnddd that's the way the news goes! Book one is done, y'all. The first chapter of the next installment of this series should be up relatively soon, but in the meantime, pour those comments in! I love me some comments!
> 
> I'd like to personally thank each and every person reading this for getting me this far. Every person that's left kudos, or commented, a special thanks to you. Y'all are what's kept me going through all of this. This was a shitty little project that was supposed to be hella short, but it became this, because of you.


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